Cancerous

Originally Posted: 1/28/08

You're black and blue, and you smell like death. There's nothing in you but a plague. Pestilence festers deep in your womb, a sky spat to the black overhead. You are the Bane and the Tyranny twined, and you've driven a wedge into me, sundered my past from my future and cast me away like a broken doll. You have built this prison around me and broken my back on a spearhead of weakness, of fear. Subjugated, I have let you win. Let you woo me into complacency and come in for the killing blow. Oh, you wretched thing.

I can still feel your hands on me, the residual stain that won't come out. I can still taste you, smell you like the lingering effects of too many ciggarettes. I close my eyes, and I can still see you, still hear your voice prattling on and on without end. There's no rhyme, no reason for this. It grows louder, higher, maddening and still you will not cease talking.

I could have destroyed you. Instead, you worked your way into my gullet and now, where there used to be purity, there festers something vile in me. I should have destroyed you, should have wiped any trace of you from the world. I didn't, and now I'm dying.

If only I could find a cure for you.

S.R.